Daily Beard

Where chins don't matter.

Month: March, 2013

Zane.

Zane

Name: Zane.
(Beard) Age: Two months.
Do you miss your chin? I miss having a clean face. Yeah, I miss my chin. 

Beard grooming routine: No, just let it grow.

You may have noticed I’ve not been updating recently. Sure, Simon needed some getting over, but that wasn’t the sole reason for the bald patch. Guys, the thing is, Mercury has been in retrograde. I’m three classes into my new yoga life, and three classes is enough to trust your instructor when she tells you that until March 18th you must observe, but not act, you must reflect but not start anything new. Basically, it’s been a free pass to laziness and an opportunity to watch beards from afar, collecting notes until Mercury gets on his jolly way again. So as of today, I’m back in action and first stop was the lovely Zane!

Isn’t he a healthy specimen! Zane here is a courier, and although I really wanted to ask him about that computer gadget on the table next to him, in the name of the blog I kept things follicle focused. Zane says that it’s quite possible his beard slows his daily work zipping around the city, but it’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make to live the beardy life. Hear, hear Zane! Leave life in the fast lane for the baby-faced. If you’ve got it, grow it.

Simon.

Simon
Name: Simon.
(Beard) Age: This one is a month.
Do you miss your chin? No. Not at all.

Beard grooming routine: I just trim the moustache to keep it away from my mouth. The wine tastes better that way. 

Today, four Yarra valley winery tastings in, I discovered Simon at the back of a cask room. Simon is a wine maker at Oakridge…and what a fine vintage he is. His beard had an aroma of damsons, leather and vanilla with a faint note of oak. I don’t know about his palate.

It was harvesting time at the vineyard, so after a behind the scenes tour we left the lads to it. Only, we didn’t exit the yard so smoothly. Distracting the car-full of beard admirers by passing my camera around zoomed into the above capture’s chin fur, the driver scratched the car down a metal cask cradle, to the hilarity of the watching wine makers. The lesson here is don’t beard spot and drive.

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